


If I am Wicked, Why Then Should I Toil in Vain?

by kelsoarr



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Biblical References, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Churches & Cathedrals, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, Izaya monologues at Shizuo about God for no reason, Light Sadism, Love/Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelsoarr/pseuds/kelsoarr
Summary: Izaya laughed, a shrill, uncontrollable laugh as he heard the distant shouts of his name that meant Shizuo had once again fallen victim to his teasing. Izaya was perched on the roof of a nearby church, swinging his legs wildly as his fingers rose and fell methodically over the view of the city beneath him. He was the conductor of this city, he was it's master, it's savior, it's destroyer-  he was a God. He smiled to himself as he hummed, time to lead the devil on a chase.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just fyi if anyone would be willing to beta for me (in general, not just for this) that'd be super. hmu  
> I already know exactly where I want this fic to go and it'll be finished soon just in case you're worried about it being a WIP  
> Also this is very self-indulgent ngl, if even one other person finds this enjoyable I'll be flattered.  
> And disclaimer that the biblical stuff in here will be mostly a jumping off point for Izaya to be a narcissistic ass and I just wanted a church as the background cause I like churches. sue me.

 

 

> "If I  am accounted wicked,
> 
> Why then should I toil in vain?
> 
> If I should wash myself with snow
> 
> And cleanse my hands with lye,
> 
> Yet You would plunge me into the pit,
> 
> And my own clothes would abhor me."

* * *

 

It was raining, Izaya smiled.

He could see the whole city from his bedroom window, as if he owned it- which in many ways, he did. He curled his toes against the silk of his bed sheets, enjoying the smooth feel of it over his skin. Izaya wanted everything around him to be luxurious. His clothes, his hair, his bed, his view. He watched with mild interest as the rain darkened the city before him, men in suits toting umbrellas hurrying down the street like ants. Izaya imagined they were salary men, just off work and headed to bars were they could drink away the images of the nagging wives and snot-nosed brats they couldn't wait to hurry home to and ignore. He spread his left palm out wide and swatted it down on a building whose lights just went on, crushing it.

Sighing, he fell back languidly onto the sheets and pulled his comforter around him, it was 3 PM but he'd just woken up. It was the first time he'd managed to sleep in his bed in many nights, it felt nice. Closing his eyes he could hear the soft patter of the rain, feel the hunger pains tugging at his stomach, the bruises on his arms and legs from God knows what ached with a soft persistence. Izaya took a deep breath, then just as quickly let it out. Noticing the feel of his chest expanding and contracting, imagining himself being pulled deeper and deeper into the mattress until eventually, he disappeared.

It was raining, and he always seemed to want to toy with him when it rained.

Was there something about the rain, or was it merely a coincidence? Izaya wondered. Did he feel rain was the best way to catch him off guard, or was it an internal matter, did the rain flip a switch in the otherwise violent, dull Shizuo Heiwajima to make him desire an interaction with Izaya that he couldn't quite name? Or was there simply no reason it all, perhaps it just rained a lot.

Izaya snorted, amused by his own thoughts. He shot out of bed, standing delicately on the tips of his toes in a full body stretch, enjoying the feel of his warm feet against the cool floorboards of his loft. It was the little things that often delighted Izaya, because those things were what no one else noticed, and when he was involved they almost always lead to bigger things. Everyone Izaya did was big, really, he was not an idle man. He couldn't recall a time he had done something without utmost deliberation.

He strode forward confidently, shedding his pajamas like a cicada leaving it's shell as he began to prepare for the day.

* * *

Shizuo was walking down the streets of the city,  _his_ city. Hands awkwardly thrust into pants pockets, back slouched against the onslaught of rain that doused his thin frame. He fucking hated it when it rained. Something about the rain made him... angry. He hated being angry, too.

With a few more strides be managed to make it to his destination, the canopy of a dingy looking and otherwise unremarkable sushi restaurant. Mumbling to himself a few choice words about today's weather forecast Shizuo pulled a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket and placed it hurriedly between his teeth, lighting the end with a decisive click of his nearly depleted dollar store lighter. He seemed to burn through everything in his life quickly. Cigarettes, lighters, matches, clothes, people. He grimaced at the last thought, shaking his head briefly in a vain attempt to clear his mind and restore the peaceful state he was sure he'd had for at least a few moments upon waking up this morning.

He sighed, though issuing from his mouth it came out as more of an angry hiss. He took a long drag of his cigarette, the buzz from the nicotine dulling his senses and providing him what would probably be the sole source of relaxation throughout this shitstorm of a day. He really needed to purchase a god damn umbrella.

Throughout his cigarette break Shizuo was pleased to notice nothing particularly unusual or significant occurred, nothing at all. In fact, the street was downright normal. He felt his perpetual tension headache reside with a sense of almost overwhelming relief, taking one last drag he stubbed out his cigarette against the bottom of his shoe and even allowed the ghost of a smile to grace his lips. Maybe today would be, dare he dream... pleasant? 

As Shizuo left the safety of the canopy, the rain even seemed to slow in it's unrelenting pace. Just as he began to think to himself that for once, everything appeared to be looking up, he froze mid-stride. Shizuo pivoted, turning quickly to his left and sniffing the air with the intensity of a bloodhound.

 _He_ was here.

"I...za...ya..." Shizuo growled, pronouncing each syllable as if it was acid on his tongue, feeling the stubbed out cigarette he'd been about to toss in the trash crumble to nonexistence in his fist.

There was only a single man in this city, this country, on this  _planet_  who evoked such a visceral reaction from Shizuo- and it was that nasty insect Izaya Orihara. It was a disdain that bordered intimacy, a hatred that blurred into an eerie familiarity, a knowledge of one another that was beyond obsession and stumbled into a territory Shizuo struggled to comprehend. It wasn't that they were simply enemies, that would be too easy, too well-defined for the enigmatic trickster that had plagued his every step since school. No, they were infuriatingly more than that. 

"Ey, Shizu-chan~" Izaya called out with a grin, waving playfully at Shizuo as he stepped out from the shadowy corner of the alley he had undoubtedly been hunkered down in, waiting for the perfect opportunity to fuck up Shizuo's day.

"I thought I told you to stay the hell away from me?" Shizuo replied simply, straightening up to his full height. He was determined to keep his cool as long as he was able, the more he ran into Izaya the less the other man was able to provoke him simply by existing; which was the one spot of good in their recent string of repeated encounters.

Izaya pouted, placing his hands behind his back and huffing like a rejected school girl, "Shizu-chan..." He whined, the nickname causing Shizuo's eyes to narrow in displeasure, "Why must you be so cruel? It's my day off!" Shizuo frowned, he wasn't entirely sure what exactly it was Izaya "did" but it wasn't a job that gave vacation days. Whatever... he wasn't going to take the bait.

"Day off, huh? Then go bother someone else far away from here, I've got work to do." He turned and began to walk down the street, knowing it was the opposite of what Izaya would expect him to do. That was another plus of Izaya bothering him day in and day out- he'd become all too predictable. Just as Shizuo had suspected, the other man was not satisfied with such an anticlimactic response and began to jog after him down the street.

"Hey hey! You aren't just going to leave me all alone to entertain myself, are you? I know you're a beast but, c'mon! Even monsters gotta play sometimes..." Izaya uttered the last line with a wicked smile, pulling out his knife to flick it open at Shizuo's throat, effectively halting him in his tracks. So much for a peaceful, ordinary day.

As if such a thing existed.

Shizuo felt his jaw begin to clench, grinding his teeth as the ever-present rage began to flood his being, causing him to see red. He hated being angry, losing control... and he hated that there was something intrinsic to Izaya that brought the worst of himself out. Izaya toyed with the rage inside Shizuo like a cat with a ball of yarn, I guess that's what you need to do to get your rocks off when you're a sadistic motherfucker.

"What is it that you want from me? Make it fucking quick." Shizuo commanded, fists balled up at his side and limbs shaking, he hoped his words didn't betray how close his composure was to slipping- but since it was Izaya it was too much to hope for, the man always knew when he was under his skin.

Izaya reached forward with his free hand, caressing Shizuo's cheek even as the edge of his blade bit into the flesh of his neck, causing a hot rivulet of blood to drip down and blossom red on the starched white collar of his shirt. He'd just fucking dry cleaned that.

"I want you to catch me." Izaya whispered into Shizuo's ear, his breath filling his ear and fogging his mind as he processed all that was happening to him. The insistent chill of the rain, the icy edge of the knife, the smell and feel of Izaya as he both threatened and almost lovingly touched him- it was all too much, and Shizuo heard himself let out a low hiss.

"And why," Shizuo said, slowly and deliberately, "Would I do that?"

Izaya moved as if to slice a lethal blow at his jugular, and Shizuo quickly shoved the other man away, hand moving to catch his wrist and barely missing as Izaya tumbled down and away with supernatural speed and reflexes.

"Now that's simple, Shizu-chan." Izaya answered with a smirk, "You're too stubborn not to." 

Before Shizuo could reply Izaya had turned and ran off into the nearby alley, effectively disappearing into the fog and gloom. Even his scent vanished as if premeditated, leaving Shizuo effectively blind to the presence of the man he'd been so overwhelmingly aware of only moments prior. Shizuo told himself, over and over, that he was  _not_ going to rise to the challenge Izaya had provided for him. He was not going to fall to the other man's whims, why should he? To what end? There was no winning when you played a game with Izaya, because regardless of the outcome he would simply smile and twist the results in his favor. In Izaya's mind, he simply couldn't lose, the only way for Shizuo to win was to opt out of playing.

That settles it, Shizuo thought. Satisfied with himself for not falling victim to his base desires or Izaya's taunts, he strode forward, finally making his way to work when a paper suddenly blew through the air and struck him full in the face. He yanked it off, prepared to curse whatever wayward flyer had chosen him as a victim, then he looked at it.

The paper was nothing but an array of bubbly, cutesy hearts with the characters of Shizuo's name written in them. At the bottom it was signed, "xoxo Izaya". Shizuo growled, ripping the paper into as many pieces he could muster before it became damp mush in his hands, the rain causing the ink to run and stain his fingers.

* * *

Izaya laughed, a shrill uncontrollable laugh as he heard the distant shouts of his name that meant Shizuo had once again fallen victim to his teasing. Izaya was perched on the roof of a nearby church, swinging his legs wildly as his fingers rose and fell methodically over the view of the city beneath him. He was the conductor of this city, he was it's master, it's savior, it's destroyer-  he was a God. He smiled to himself as he hummed, time to lead the devil on a chase.

 

 


End file.
